


Echoes of Lightning

by redjacket



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15590232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redjacket/pseuds/redjacket
Summary: When the plane broke some sort of barrier and sputtered out, Steve thought he had his chance. The Germans had disappeared and even if they found the plane wreckage, his body could have easily drifted away on the ocean currents.He tried to apparate.It didn't work.He tried again. Nothing.God, he missed his broomstick.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For day three of the Wondertrev Love Week, prompt: au. 
> 
> The Wonder Woman Harry Potter AU that no one asked for. I've used a lot of WW dialogue. I've also ignored the bits I don't like about North American magic in the Harry Potter Extended Universe.

When the plane broke some sort of barrier and sputtered out, Steve thought he had his chance. The Germans had disappeared and even if they found the plane wreckage, his body could have easily drifted away on the ocean currents.

He tried to apparate.

It didn't work.

He tried again. Nothing.

“Fuck,” Steve yelled and tried to get the plane under control again. He needed to get to his wand but the plane was going down fast. The engine was dead but maybe he could control the landing...

God, he missed his broomstick.

He hit the water hard and everything went black.

\--

Steve woke up on a beach with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen staring down at him.

 _Angel_ one part of his mind told him while the other said _Veela._

“Wow,” he managed, eloquently.

The angel/Veela woman smiled at him. “You're a man.”

A man not a wizard. Steve would have sworn she was magic just from looking at her but he could not afford to be wrong about that.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I mean...Don’t I look like one?”

She smiled and...he had to look away. It was too bright and if she wasn’t a witch...

There was no point going down that road.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around. This had to be magic. Weather didn’t just change like that unless it was magic. He needed to get his bearings. And find out why he couldn’t Apparate. And get back to London.

“Themyscira,” she told him.

Wait. What?

If that was a Muggle placename, Steve would eat his wand.

“The Muhwhat?” Steve asked, playing dumb. Maybe she was a Squib but that still...it didn’t seem right.

“Who are you?” she asked.

There was a loud wrenching noise as the German ship broke the barrier — it had to be a magical barrier — and came apart the way his plane had. It started to sink but there were still six rowboats full of Germans with guns.

“I’m one of the good guys,” Steve said, he got to his feet. “And those are the bad guys.”

“What?”

“The Germans,” he said. If he could get her some place safe, he could come back and deal with them. He was fairly sure that their only wizard had gone down with the ship. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”

“The Germans?” she asked.

And that was — that was weirder than her not being magic when she so clearly should be.

“Diana!” The shout came from the top of the cliff. Steve turned and saw a blonde woman who just...she had to be a witch. “Step away from her! Now!”

Steve saw her look at the fast-arriving boats. The cliff was lined with...with archers?

“Ready your bows!”

“They have guns, right?” Steve asked. Or wands. Wands would be better.

“Fire!”

No, those were arrows. And, as he dove to push Diana out of the way and the first one of the woman died in front of them, he realized they did not seem to know what guns were.  

But as soon as the arrows flew Steve knew. They were using magic. All of them. Wandless magic in a way he had never seen before.

It was immensely powerful.

And it made things much easier for him.

Steve pulled out his wand and aimed at one of the German soldiers. When in Rome...

“ _Avada kedavra!”_

_\--_

After the battle, after the Queen’s sister died, they took his wand and bound him for interrogation. Steve braced himself. He had always had a knack for wandless magic and he knew — from a week of truly torturous training — that there were things that could be done to confound veritaserum.

Steve was confident he could handle whatever they threw at him. No matter that the wandless magic they were using was so powerful and abundant he could practically feel it in the air.

He was wrong.

“My, uh, name is Captain Steve Trevor, pilot, American Expeditionary Forces, serial number 8141921. That’s all I’m at liberty to...” Steve tried to stop, he did. He was prepared for it to hurt.

Veritaserum gagged you until you spat all your secrets out. It left you feeling nauseous and cold and empty.

Resisting it was not easy but it could be done.

The Lasso wasn’t the same. It wasn’t what he was prepared for at all. It burned instead of choking.

Steve did not react well to burns.

“Wizard contingent. Assigned British Intelligence,” he heard himself say before he even understood the difference. He felt his eyes widen in surprise. “What the hell is this thing?”

“The Lasso of Hestia compels you to reveal the truth,” Diana told him.

“But it’s really hot,” Steve said and because he could not stop himself: “I have training against veritaserum. It’s not...it’s not working.”

“This is no wizard’s trick,” Melinappe said. “It is a tool of the gods. It is pointless and painful to resist.”

“What is your mission?” the Queen asked.

Steve tried to stall. He could tell the truth without telling _that_ truth. “Whoever you are, you are in more danger than you think.”

“What is your mission?” the Queen demanded.

“I am a...”

The Lasso burned away everything but the truth away. Steve had been branded by dragon fire before. It had not been half as hot.

“I am a...”

Resisting was impossible.

In the end it was a relief to speak.

“I am spy! I’m a spy. I’m a spy.”

He told them everything. About Ludendorff and the secret facility being manned by forced Turkish labour and then...

Maru.

“The boys in the trenches called her Doctor Poison,” Steven said. “And for good reason. She was a potions expert but her magic, it’s gone wrong. She’s made a new type of poison gas but she’s...she’s managed to trap dementors with it — I don’t know how — so that if you take your gas mask off...”

Steve felt out of control, like every barrier he had ever put up to defend himself was being stripped away. But he noticed the way the Queen’s face changed at the word dementor.

“She’s changed them somehow. They attack wizards and No-Ma-Muggles alike,” Steve said because he couldn’t stop. “From what I could tell if Dr. Maru was able to complete her work, millions would suffer a fate worse than death. I was there to observe and report, nothing more but...I had to do something.”

He was hopeful, for a moment, that he could convince them, the Queen, to let him go, to let him stop it. He could see Diana was affected, could see that some of the others were disturbed but the Queen’s face remained impassive even as the Lasso burned away everything, down to his soul, all his fears laid bare for them to see.

It did not work. They treated him fairly. They unbound him and someone helped him to stand when his legs felt shaky. He was escorted to the Healers.

But they did not let him go.

—

The pools were...different.

Steve had spent time in St. Mungo’s after a mission. He had seen a healer in New York after...right before he had left the United State for Europe.

Neither of them had anything like this.

He might have indulged in them a bit longer than he should, idly trying to figure out what type of magic he was even dealing with here, other than very old and very powerful. They did not seem in a hurry to let him go and the water seemed to be healing aches he hadn’t even realized he had.

Of course, just when he decided to get out and get moving, Diana appeared.

“Woah, I...” Steve said, moving to cover himself and then. Well, if she wanted to take a look he wasn’t what anyone would call modest. “I didn’t see you come in.”

She looked but then: “Would you say you’re a typical example of your sex?”

And then he had made a fool of himself. It wasn’t exactly what he had been hoping for in front of Diana, who was not an angel/Veela but was a Princess.

“What’s that?” She asked looking...down.

Steve blinked. He didn't find wizards any better than Muggles when it came to matters of sex but they generally knew—

Oh. Right.

“It’s a, uh. Oh. Um. It’s a watch.” He grabbed it and started picking his way out of the pool and towards his clothing.

“A watch?”

“Yeah. It’s a watch. Tells time,” Steve said. Wizards had adapted watches nearly as quickly as Muggles had made them — different time, then. “My father gave it to me. Been through hell with him. My mother bewitched it to be indestructible. Now it’s with me and good thing it’s still ticking.”

Oh thank Merlin, a towel.

“What for?”

Steve couldn't make sense of these people. It wasn't even a Wizard’s watch. Then again, there didn't seem to be any Muggles on the island at all. “Because it tells time. When to eat, sleep, wake up, work.”

She seemed amused by that. “You let this little thing tell you what to do.”

No, he was not going to go there. “Yeah.”

“And your wand?”

Steve nearly skidded; the rocks under his feet were not slippery at all. He barely managed not to drop his towel.

“Um. Your people,” he coughed. Pants, he needed his pants. “Your people took that remember?”

Steve thought Diana looked contrite but she didn’t offer any sympathy about it. Or give him any hints as to where it might be or when he would get it back.

Fine. That was fine. Steve was okay with windless magic in a pinch. Not that his magic seemed to work the same way here. They definitely had an anti-apparition spell on the island but it seemed like they had adapted that to prohibit other spells as well.

He sighed, exasperated. “Can I ask you some questions?”

She nodded and...smiled at him, just a little. He tried to ignore how much he appreciated that. “Where are we?”

“Themyscira,” she answered, matter-of-fact.

“No, I got that before,” Steve said, his frustration beginning to leak out. “But I mean, where are we? What kind of magic are you even using? Why does the water do that?”

“It is for healing,” she answered.

“I guessed that but I’ve never seen anything like it,” Steve said. “No one uses wands? I’ve seen that before but...the way your people use magic, I’ve never seen anything like _that_. Who are you people?”

“We are Amazons,” Diana said simply. “We are the bridge between a greater understanding between all men, wizard and non-magical alike.”

“Right,” Steve said. That explained nothing. He sighed. He didn’t think Diana was trying to keep things from him. It felt like they weren’t talking about the same things even when they said exactly the same words.

But there was one thing he needed to say: “You know, I didn’t get to say this before but thank you for dragging me out of the water.”

She looked at him and for a moment, Steve felt like they understood each other completely.

“Thank you,” Diana said. “For what you did on the beach.”

She told him that her mother wouldn’t help, wouldn’t let him go, and Steve understood that. It was one thing to put yourself in harm’s way, allowing someone you loved to needlessly suffer...

Steve understood Queen Hippolyta more than she realized.

That meant he had to find a way to escape. As soon as Diana left, he started planning. Sure, his Muggle compass didn’t work and he didn’t have his wand and, even though he wasn’t terrible as wandless magic, he couldn’t seem to manage half of the spells he normally could — they had definitely found a way to adapt anti-apparition fields to prohibit other spells, which was fascinating and he wanted to know how but also made things so much more difficult.

Still, Steve had been in worse situations than before. He would find a way out of this one.

He had to.

\--

Diana’s reappearance startled Steve so much he dropped his, admittedly useless, compass. Not that he had made any headway with it. It had two modes: a regular compass mode and one he had added himself, bewitched so that, if he turned the cover just so, it would show him exactly the way he wanted to go.

Neither was working.

And then Diana appeared and she looked—

Steve swallowed and pulled himself together.

“Nice outfit,” he said.

Diana took it in stride: “Thank you. Now, I will show you the way off the island and you will take me to Ares.”

Steve was smart enough to realize it was the best offer he was going to get and much better than if he kept trying to go it alone: “Deal.”

And then she handed him his wand.

\--

There was a moment when Queen Hippolyta rode up that Steve thought he was done for. When Diana went forward to meet her and gave him the opportunity to get onto the ship alone, he was tempted to push off and leave. Even unable to apparate, he could make good time using his wand as a motor. It would be better for her too, he thought. Queen Hippolyta was right that no one should be dragged into this war.

He didn’t know why he waited but then she was onboard and there was no going back.

Steve wished he were a better man. A better man would have regretted it more.

\--

London had been Steve’s salvation. The fog had been dense enough to kill a man, the first time he had stepped on her crowded, smokey, smelly streets but the sense of relief he had felt to finally be there had imprinted on his heart.

He hadn’t been back to America since.

Diana did not view it as fondly.

“It’s hideous,” she said.

Steve had to laugh.

“Yeah, it’s not for everyone,” he said and smiled. “Maybe you’ll like Diagon Alley more.”

Diana looked skeptical. Steve’s thoughts were mostly on the notebook, on getting it to Darnell, on stopping Maru, but he felt a moment of hopeful anticipation about getting to show her Diagon Alley when this was all over.

It surprised him. It had been so long since he had enjoyed going there.

But they didn’t have time, not now, and Steve pushed the thought aside. Just another regret to itch and burn under his skin.

\--

Etta met them at Selfridge’s, clutching her handbag — charmed to be so large inside Steve wouldn’t be surprised if she had a small canon in there — close and muttering about how much more reasonable Madam Malkin's was.

Steve was surprised by how pleased she was to see him.

“You’re alive!” She exclaimed, hugging Steve rather more tightly than she expected. “Wiza-er, Hurrah and huzzah!”

Steve patted Etta’s back awkwardly as she continued speaking, all too conscious of the glances they were getting. It wasn’t because of him or Etta — Etta was a consummate spy, she could blend in so well with the Muggles it was hard to believe she wasn’t at least Muggle born. Diana was the one who stood out, who tried to undress in the middle of the store minutes later.

It made his skin prickle uncomfortably.

He cleared his throat and made his excuses, muttering to Etta: “Remember, she has to fit in at the _Muggle_ Parliament offices.”

As if Etta hadn’t arranged half of his Muggle wardrobe for him.

He disappeared into the men’s section before she could so much as scowl at him. He gathered what he would need — he had to convince Darnell, maybe even Haig and that required a certain level of dress — and slipped into a fitting room. He stripped down and was just putting on his new undergarments when his shoulder burned. It caught him off guard and he flinched, curling forward and looking around with controlled panic as he tried to figure out _why._

The curtain of his dressing room was parted just slightly. It was nothing, a crack in the fabric, but it was enough that one of the Muggle clerks must have caught a glimpse of his wand sitting on the chair, half obscured by his discarded shirt. They wouldn’t have known what it was, probably wouldn’t have noticed it much.

That didn’t matter.

Steve reached over and dragged his filthy shirt over his wand even as the clerk turned and walked away, as oblivious as if Steve had memory charmed him.

The burning faded to a sting.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and gripped it hard for a moment. He told himself that it didn’t matter, that he was used to it.

He finished dressing. Etta should have Diana ready by now. They had to get a move on.

—

Diana was distracting.

Steve was used to distraction. He was used to ignoring it and soldiering on anyway.

It was just...the distractions he was used to were usually unpleasant.

Unfortunately, she was distracting enough that Steve didn’t notice the men following them for about three paces longer than it would have usually taken him.

He bit back a curse. That limited his options. And if he could, he had to keep Diana from getting hurt.

He tried to lose them in the alley, first, which went spectacularly wrong. But they pulled guns on him, not wands.

That made it easier.

“Stand back,” he told Diana and ignored the sudden burning on his shoulder as reached into his pocket for his wand. He would cast a shield charm and then—

Diana surged forward and blocked the bullet before he could. Steve felt stunned as it fell, hot but harmless, into his palm. The German spies looked even more poleaxed. He stared at her: “Or maybe not.”

She defeated them more quickly than he would have. There was something...more than human about her movements but it was like nothing he had ever seen. It was fascinating.

“Is there anything else you want to show me?” he asked, exhilarated, after Diana had took care of them all and he got one punch in for good measure.

Etta arrived at exactly the right moment, She always seemed to. It was almost a relief when Diana mentioned Ares. Steve hadn’t figured out how he was going to explain that, or anything, to Etta yet and he had become very good at hiding or glossing over things he didn’t want to explain.

Now that Etta knew, she wouldn’t let him get out of telling her. In full. She was all too willing to put Veritaserum in a cup of tea if she thought someone was lying to her. It was how Steve had known his training against it had worked.

But duty came first, which meant facing the Brass.

Steve thought he would have preferred the Veritaserum.

—

Steve thought the biggest folly of the war, other than the whole thing, was that there were two sides fighting _together_ and one side had no idea the other side existed. Not even at the highest levels, besides the Muggle Prime Minister and the King. The Ministry had technically forbidden British wizards from participating. That hadn’t stopped droves of them from signing up, in Britain or America.

Colonel Darnell was an old war horse but he was also a wizard. Steve knew he could persuade him, if it were just up to them.

Field Marshal Haig was not. He didn’t even know about the wizards in his ranks. The ones that made up nearly all of his intelligence force were particularly secretive. Colonel Darnell ran a tight ship.

That meant keeping a low profile. Steve wasn’t surprised when he was ordered not to act. It would hardly be the first time he had had to go around official orders. His entire participation involved ignoring official orders. He was used to it.

Diana was not.

Steve managed to get her out of the room before she revealed too much, though not before she managed to thoroughly insult the commander of the British Expeditionary Force to his face.

She tore a strip of him as they left. The attention they were attracting made his skin crawl and the back of his shoulder twinged sharply when she mentioned Ares. He could feel heads turning towards them.

Diana was infuriating. She was stubborn and she didn’t understand how things worked and so _honest_ she was liable to spoil everything.

Maybe that was why he felt reckless enough to turn and use her own damn magic to prove his point, binding her Lasso around his wrist despite the sharp pain at his back and the way it made him feel out of control.

“I am taking you to the front,” he told her and he hated this rope. He hated it. It turned him inside out. “We are probably going to die. This is a terrible idea.”

There was more on the tip of his tongue, things he couldn’t afford to let out. He yanked the Lasso off his wrist.  

He didn’t think he could do this alone and he would be damned if he was taking Etta to the front with him. He had managed to spare her that so far.

“We’re going to need reinforcements.”

\--

Charlie and Sameer preferred a mixed bar just off of Diagon Alley. The clientele was largely made up of the wizards and witches taking part in the war effort, Squibs, and Muggles who had found out about magic one way or another.

Sameer had introduced Steve to it and despite it being somehow even more run down than the Leaky Cauldron, Steve felt more relaxed there than anywhere in Muggle or wizarding London. Wands were forbidden in case any random Muggles wandered in off the street but in general everyone knew about magic.

Sameer was always easy to find, he was always trying to con someone out of something. Steve could tell at a glance they were Muggles tonight. That was Sameer’s usual preference — he felt sorry for Squibs and thought wizards were too easy to trick, but Muggles, particularly those who knew about magic and thus knew to be wary, were a proper challenge for his talents.

Steve would admit it was always a little fun to spoil his game.

He had expected Charlie to be at the bar but wasn’t surprised to find him in a fight. He was surprised he had picked it with a Muggle. Charlie’s preference was firewhisky. It wasn’t a good sign that he was “mistaking” glasses of other liquor for his.

But. Needs must.

Steve was fairly sure he could have convince them to join the mission. Maybe. Sameer, at least, could have been persuaded.

Sameer owned him a lot of favours, after all.

Sir Patrick’s arrival made it moot point. Steve had never paid much attention to Sir Patrick. He had his fingers in everything but never pushed too hard except when it came to the Armistice, which Steve didn’t disagree with per say, he just thought the terms were a bit...off.

But Sir Patrick was a politician and a Lord, not a soldier. Steve generally tried to steer clear of those. Whether or not they were wizards or Muggles.

Steve realized he had no idea which one of those Sir Patrick was.

Diana seemed...impressed by him. Steve thought that should have made him more wary but it didn’t, somehow. He was always going to take the envelope of Muggle money — he needed Charlie and Sameer with them, he would need Chief, and payment was the only way to ensure all of them came along — but he felt less bitter about it, looking at Diana’s pleased expression.

Steve didn’t give Sir Patrick much more thought than that. He left soon after and Etta pulled Steve aside.

“Run the mission?” Etta repeated. She hadn’t said anything else since Sir Patrick suggested it.

“You already do more to run mine than Darnell does,” Steve said. He glanced over to make sure Diana was fine. She was looking at Charlie in thinly veiled disgust while Sameer spoke in rapid-fire something to her.

This was going to be a terrible mission.

“Right. You mostly ignore me, do whatever you like, and disappear for weeks on end,” Etta said.

“I rely on you for intel and convincing the Brass not to write me off as KIA,” Steve replied. “And this time I’m going to need you to run interference.”

“With Darnell?” Etta asked.

“With everyone. Including Sir Patrick, if need be,” Steve told her. He looked at Etta. She didn’t look happy about that. “Confound him if you have to. If we don’t get this done...”

“I know. I typed up your report already. You don’t have to tell me,” Etta said, sighing. “Did you see the Dementors?”

“Yes,” Steve said. He needed a drink. “She hasn’t perfected it yet but...”

Etta reached out and squeezed Steve’s arm. “You’ll stop it.”

Steve nodded once, sharply. “I have to.”

Etta frowned. She looked like she wanted to say something more but she sighed instead, nodding towards the table and changing the topic.

“Are you sure about this?” Etta asked. “Taking Diana with you?”

“Diana’s not going to give me a choice. You saw her in the alley,” Steve told her. “Besides, I promised I would.”

Etta gave him a funny look. Steve couldn’t blame her for it — the promise of a spy wasn’t worth much.

“And it’s fine? She doesn’t make your...” Etta gestured vaguely, aware of Steve’s discomfort with the topic. Etta had found out accidentally. Steve never would have willingly told her.

“You saw her in the alley,” Steve repeated, cutting her off. “She’s not a Muggle.”

“I’m not sure she’s a witch, either,” Etta said. “And...Ares? The Greek god of war? Do you believe that, er...”

Etta paused, clearly not wanting to say rubbish. She _liked_ Diana. Steve shrugged. “I don’t think it matters. And, Etta, we’ve seen stranger things.”

Etta looked unconvinced. Steve wasn’t convinced himself. He wasn’t particularly susceptible to anyone’s convictions but his own.

Somehow, though, Diana made him want to believe.

\--

The trip to meet Chief was uneventful — except, that moment when Diana first tasted ice cream and everything but her smile fell away — only for the walking wounded to send Steve crashing back to Earth moments later.

There was always the war. It never let him go.  

Steve always met Chief with a mingled sense of dread and anticipation. Dread lingered over anything that reminded him of home and even Chief was _different._  Steve had been vaguely aware of the tension between the colonial-American magical community and Indigenous magical communities. His acquaintance with Chief and his estrangement from the American magical community had brought it into sharper relief.

But Chief also understood things about Steve he didn’t even know how to begin to explain to his friends from the British magical community. They didn’t know how different things could be in America.

He watched Chief’s reaction to Diana closely. It surprised him somehow. He respected Chief’s opinion, trusted it. He had already known Diana was special, seeing the look of surprise and almost wonder on Chief’s face, Steve realized he didn’t know the half of it. And he needed to.

Steve tried to corner Chief alone before they settled down for the night. He didn’t make it easy. Steve only managed a moment where none of the others could overhear.

Chief looked amused at his question but he gave him an answer: “She’s like me.”

It was a completely unhelpful answer. Steve wasn’t entirely surprised.

“I don’t know what that means,” Steve told him.

Chief smiled. “You will.”

\--  

After Diana — Steve didn’t know how to describe what Diana had done in No-Man’s land except that he didn’t think he had felt hope like that since before...hell, before his sister died. After No-Man’s land, after they retook Veld, after Charlie sang again and Diana looked in such bewitching, joyful wonder at the sudden sprinkling of snow — Steve thought he might be beginning to understand.

He fully intended to just show her where her room was. He intended to step back out into the hallway. That room, with her, that was no place for him now. He didn’t think it had ever been.

Diana was...

She was...

Steve kissed her. There wasn’t anything he could have resisted giving her then.  

There was a moment when her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, when Diana was already standing naked before him, glorious and perfect and _magic_ , that Steve nearly pulled away. Because he _wasn’t_ good like that and she didn’t understand that _yet_ but he knew she _would_.

Then Diana looked at him and Steve was lost.

They lay in bed together, after. Steve was drowsy and, he would admit, secretly, to himself, already impossibly in love with her. He just wanted to look at her for the rest of his life. Failing that, he wanted to look at her properly. So he lay on his side, facing her, not on his back, as he usually did.

It was inevitable, that her hand would come to rest curiously over the brand on the back of his shoulder.

It was impossible for Diana to miss the way it made him flinch.  

“Steve?” Diana asked.

“It's nothing,” Steve said.

Diana propped herself up on her elbow, tracing the brand curiously. Steve could hardly breath. She had no way of knowing what it took for him not to get up and leave. She couldn’t know. Steve had to keep reminding himself of that.

It wasn’t...objectively ugly, after all. It was an eagle. The eagle from the crest of MACUSA.

Steve hated the way it felt under her fingertips.

“It's magic,” Diana said. “Your people's magic, is it not?”

Steve said nothing. He didn’t know how she could tell that. She had to have felt the way he went rigid beside her.

“It's a punishment,” Diana realized.

Steve said nothing still. For a moment there was stillness, then Diana slid her hand away from the mark.

Steve thought she was going to go for her Lasso. Why wouldn’t she? Of course she would want—

Diana touched his face. Steve couldn’t look away from her.

“What does it do?” Diana asked.

“It burns,” Steve said. “It’s a — they call them dragon fire brands. They’re supposed to be...corrective.”

Diana was beginning to look anger. “I don’t understand.”

Steve’s lips thinned, he looked away. “I broke a law. This was supposed to make sure I didn’t do it again.”

“What law?” Diana asked.

“The United States is different than Britain,” Steve said haltingly. “Magical and non-magical people aren’t supposed to mix at all. Performing magic in front of a No-M-a Muggle is illegal. I ignored that.”

Diana sat up. Her voice was tight with anger. “So they branded you?”

Steve turned on to his back. He looked at the ceiling so he didn’t have to look at her. “It wasn’t my first...warning. They were watching me and when I tried to...well, they arrested me.”

“That is absurd,” Diana said. Steve was silent. He could feel Diana’s eyes on him. “What aren't you telling me?”

Steve felt like the Lasso was wrapped around him. He had never told _anyone_ about the brand. Etta and Chief knew pieces but he had never _said_ anything.  

But he wanted to tell Diana, he wanted her to know, and suddenly he couldn't stop the words.

“My sister was a Squib,” Steve said. “My mother...My father was a No-Maj but she fell in love with him anyway. She broke her wand and ran away to marry him.”

“When they found out I was magic my...grandmother interceded. Our family was — is — old and prestigious,” Steve’s mouth twisted. “But Nellie was like my father. She didn’t have magic. After I left for school we lived almost entirely separate lives. I didn’t — I didn’t really get to see them anymore.”

“But then, Nellie got sick with tuberculosis and that’s just a Muggle disease. We can fix that. I knew how to fix that,” Steve couldn't keep the anger from his voice. He didn't think he would ever be able to. “There's no reason anyone should die from it. We can cure it. But if you're not magic they don't. It’s not allowed. And she was a Squib and she had married another No-Maj and my family were lawbreakers anyway and they wouldn't let me...”

The words stuck in his throat. Steve forced them out as if they were bile. “She was dying. I couldn't just let her die. I tried to...They wouldn’t let me...”

Steve took a ragged breath. “They arrested me before I could save her. They could have — I had been warned. They could have had me killed. It would have been considered harsh but...it’s happened to people for less. My grandmother got the punishment reduced to a dragon fire brand.”

Steve choked. “But she wouldn't help Nellie. She was a No-Maj. They just let her...they just let her die. She died while I was in prison. I left. After. I couldn’t stay.”

It took him a long moment to remember how to breath properly, the pain of saying it outloud was so intense. He had never said it before.

Diana said nothing. She pulled him into her arms before he understood what she was doing and squeezed him so tightly it hurt.

It felt good.

“That was wrong,” Diana said fiercely. The righteous anger in her voice made something in his chest loosen. “They were wrong.”

Steve exhaled. He knew that. He did.

It wouldn’t have mattered if it was. He still would have done it.

“When does it happen?” Diana asked quietly. “What makes it...hurt?”

“If you reveal magic to a No-Maj through word or deed, your action will be amended,” Steve quoted. His grandmother had been the one to pronounce it. He forced himself to shrug. “I can ignore it if I know it’s coming but when it catches me off guard it can be distracting.”

Diana looked at him, angry still, but also sad. She kissed him, more gently than before and put her hand over the brand again. This time it felt as if she wanted to protect him from it.

Steve wished she could.

\--

Steve thought of that moment, when he was running for the plane, after Diana had lost faith in him, in all of mankind. Steve couldn’t blame her for that.

He hoped she found it again.

She hadn’t heard him on the watchtower, not really. He didn’t think she heard him when he tried to explain what he was doing, why he had to go.

He hoped she heard it when he told her he loved her.

None of it stopped him from getting on the plane.

Maru’s bombs were there, perfected and terrible. A fate worse than death in each one.

Steve just hoped Chief’s plan would work.

They needed fire to ignite the bombs and burn off the mustard gas. And one hell of a Patronus to eliminate the Dementors. Maru had...changed them to make the bombs work. A strong enough Patronus would destroy them, not just drive them off.  

It had worked with the factory, but those bombs weren’t finished and Chief had been the one casting the spell. Chief was more than Steve could ever hope to be.

Steve could only hope Chief would handle any Dementors that escaped. Steve wasn’t sure his Patronus was that strong.

He was going to have to put everything into that Patronus. He didn’t think he would have time to cast Incendio to blow up the bombs, he would have to use his gun, have his wand at the ready.

And...there would be no apparating away, after. He knew that.

He flew the plane as high as it would go. He turned in his seat, aimed the gun back at the bombs. It was the hardest and the easiest thing he had ever done. He was terrified but he was also sure, so bone deep sure, that it was the right, the only thing to do.

His wand was at the ready. He closed his eyes.

He thought of his paternal grandfather’s hands warm on top of his; the smell and the sunlight of his grandmother’s kitchen as she taught him and his sister how to bake bread.

He thought of the way he pressed his face against his mother's stomach when she hugged him when he was a child. The press of his father’s hands on his shoulders when he was almost grown and had made him proud. The way his sister looked on her wedding day when she had leaned in to kiss his cheek and thank him for coming, the last time they saw each other.

He thought of Etta hugging him; Sameer’s laughter; Charlie singing; Chief’s rare, genuine smile.

Diana.

Oh, Diana.

Every moment and every touch and every taste of her, warming him from the inside out.

Not just happiness: love.

He would save today; she would save the world.

He fired the gun.

“Expecto Patronum!”

There was a blinding flash of light.

\--

On the ground, Diana saw the plane explode and screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Battle at the Airfield. (As it would be come to known in Wizarding history.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of the Harry Potter universe rewrite that no one asked for, for the [reunion prompt of the Wondertrev Love week.](https://wondertrevnet.tumblr.com/post/175651939595/wondertrev-love-week-2018-4-11-august)

Diagon Alley was like nothing Diana had ever seen before.

She must have been gaping because Sameer sniffed beside her. “It is nothing like the magical quarter in Paris.”

“I beg your pardon,” Etta interrupted. “Nothing there that you can't get here. Just because we're not as flashy...”

“It's Hogsmeade you want to see, lass,” Charlie said. “Completely magical and you can see Hogwarts from there!”

“Oh Hogwarts,” Sameer said dismissively. “Now, at Beauxbatons...”

Charlie made an indignant sound.

“They are not for the eyes of outsiders,” Napi said in a quiet voice meant only for her ears. “But the things my people could show you would be unbelievable to even the greatest wizard of Europe.”

Diana smiled sadly. “That is not a journey I think I could make even if I was invited.”

Napi looked to where Steve stood, pale, and tightly bracketed by both Etta and Sameer. They were no more than two steps behind but Steve was slowing even then, his eyes returning to them unerringly.

Diana came forward and took his hand in hers. Napi clapped him on the shoulder. Steve took a breath.

Steve had woken up that morning and said he needed a new wand. His old one had been lost. They had never found it after the explosion.

It was his first time outside since they had brought him back to London.

_\--_

_Three months prior_

It was done. Ares was defeated.

Diana stood on the demolished airfield as the German soldiers — boys still — and her friends picked themselves out of the rubble.

The sun was rising.

It was done.

There was a watch with hidden magic in her hand.

Her heart ached.

Napi was suddenly in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, his eyes intent.

“We still have time,” Napi said. Diana’s heart leapt into her throat. “But we must be quick.”

\--

They had found Steve about a mile away from the airfield. He was bone white and staring at the sky, eyes glassy and unseeing. He looked like he was dead.

Napi got to him before Diana did. He dug through his jacket pockets before pulling out a vial of something. He wrapped Steve in his coat and pulled him into his arms before forcing the liquid in the vial passed his lips, rubbing his throat to get him to swallow it.

Steve jerked and sputtered. Napi did not relent, forcing Steve to drink it all even as he flailed and then clutched at Napi’s arms. Napi leaned closer when it was done and whispered something to Steve in his own language that Diana could not hear and Steve could not understand but seemed to make him calm anyway.

Diana knelt beside them, reaching out to stroke Steve’s hair, touch his cheek. He felt so cold. He was shaking.

But he looked at her.

“Diana,” Steve murmured, his voice weak and shaky. He looked confused and disoriented and...it took her a moment to realize that there was a deep, dreadful terror lurking in the back of his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked and she could see him force himself to focus. He did not look like he could maintain it for long. “How did the battle end?”

“Ares was defeated,” Diana told him, trying to buoy him up. There was a distant to him and a lassitude that she did not like. “You destroyed the bombs. We have seen no Dementors. The day is won.”

“It looks like you got them all,” Charlie added, with forced cheer.

Steve's eyes went very far away again. His voice was hoarse: “I did.”

Napi had been watching Steve closely. He tightened his grip on him then. “We need to get you warmed up, somewhere safe. Sameer?”

“Yes?”

“We can’t risk apparating him yet. He needs chocolate. As much of it as we can get,” Napi said. “Can you find some?”

Sameer nodded tightly. “I will find a way.”

Sameer first found an abandoned farmhouse, closer to Veld than the airfield. They found a vehicle that had not been sacrificed in Ares and Diana’s battle and set out.

They could just see the barn, partially collapsed from a shell, when Steve gasped and started to shake.

“This won’t work,” Napi said. “It’s too close to the village.”

“The dead keep it now,” Steve said from where he was slumped between Diana and Napi, only half conscious.  

Charlie and Sameer exchanged a look in the front seat. Sameer looked back at them.

“That is not at all ominous,” he said, looking disturbed.

Steve frowned, as if he were confused. Napi slung and arm around his shoulders and gathered him closer to his side. Diana pressed in on the other.

“It is what it is,” Napi said. “Keep away from Veld and the trenches, if you can.”

Steve shuddered at the thought of going near the front line. The furrow in Sameer’s forehead deepened.

“I know a place,” Sameer said finally. “Charlie, pull over. Let me drive.”

They reached the half-ruined inn within the hour. Steve was fading by then, only partially conscious and listing into Diana’s side. He mumbled sometimes but Diana could not make out the words.

They got him upstairs. Sameer apparated away to find chocolate and supplies. Charlie pulled the mattress off the bed on Napi’s instructions and moved it closer to the fire Napi built up. They bundled Steve in blankets and Diana cradled him in her arms, next to the fire.

It took hours and several bricks of very fine chocolate before Steve’s skin started to warm again. Half revived, he started to tremble and, though he desperately needed rest, whenever his eyes began to close, he jerked himself awake again.

Finally, during the brightest hour of day, Napi put his hand on Steve's forehead and said, in his own language: _“Sleep. Do not dream.”_

Steve went limp in Diana’s arms, deeply asleep in an instant.

Napi looked troubled.

“What is it?” Sameer asked.

“Magic comes from many places,” Napi said. He smoothed his thumb over Steve's forehead again. “There are many pathways. All of Steve's have been blown wide open.”

Charlie and Sameer looked at each other again.

“What does that mean?” Sameer asked.

Napi paused for a moment before he looked up at them. “He would be very susceptible to the Imperious curse, right now, to begin with.”

They both looked startled and deeply concerned. Napi sighed.

“Someone has to go check in with Etta,” Napi said. “I am going to need some supplies. And we’re going to need more chocolate.”

There were still several bars left. Sameer swallowed at the implication.

“Okay, boss,” Sameer said, glancing at Steve’s still pale face. “Whatever you say.”

—

When Charlie and Sameer were gone, Napi turned and looked at Diana, Steve insensible between them.

“Your people,” Napi said after a long moment of silence. “They all have magic?”

“Yes,” Diana answered.

“And you grew up thinking you were the same,” Napi said.

“Yes.”

His voice went gentle. “You’re not.”

Diana stroked Steve’s hair back from where it had fallen across his forehead. “I know that now.”

“You’re like me,” Napi told her. “What we have is more than magic.”

“A tool of the gods,” Diana said, thinking of the Lasso of Hestia.

“Not tools of the gods,” Napi said. “No tool of men or gods could have defeated Ares. Only another god, and a god of his own ilk, could have done that.”

Diana knew that and yet: “I don’t know how to use such powers except as magic.”

Napi’s eyes were very dark, as if they encompassed all of creation. “I will help you.”

“And Steve?” Diana asked.

Napi looked at Steve’s sleeping face for a long time. When he spoke, his words were measured.

“He cannot become like us,” Napi said. “But he is changed from what he was.”

“What does that mean?” Diana asked.

Napi shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

—

They warded the inn and made it unplottable for Muggles. Steve was improving, he seemed more present, less likely to trail off three sentences in to a conversation and stare at something only he could see. But Napi said it would be at least a week before Steve could be apparated safely.

He screamed himself awake in the dead of night the first night there and then for the next three nights in a row. Diana could only hold him after and force more chocolate on him as he shook and shook and shook. He would not speak of what he had dreamed, though he very clearly remembered it.

On the third night, after Steve bolted awake for the second time, Napi took up a guard in a chair in the corner of their room. Steve slept through the rest of the night undisturbed. They moved another bed into the room the next day; Napi’s presence did not seem to stop the nightmares entirely but it helped greatly.

At the end of the week, they apparated back to London. Napi side-long apparated both Steve and Diana without blinking an eye at the effort. Both Sameer and Charlie looked at him strangely after, or would have, if Steve had not collapsed as soon as they materialized in his apartment.

Diana forced more chocolate down his throat as Sameer, Charlie and Etta walked through each room casting ward upon ward. Napi did not tell them what he was doing as he paced the length of the apartment, back and forth, before nodding to himself, satisfied.

As night crept upon the city, Steve insisted they go home, that he was fine. Etta, Charlie and Sameer did, reluctantly.

Napi stayed.

Steve slumped into a chair by the fire as soon as they were gone, wrapped in heat-charmed blankets. He looked drawn and exhausted but present, his eye focussed on them instead of some middle distance they could not see.

Diana put her hand on his knee. It was a relief to see his eyes sharpen and focus on her.

“I know your dreams bother you,” she said. “But you need to rest.”

“They're not his dreams,” Napi said. He looked at Steve. “But you knew that already.”

Steve grimaced, swallowed and nodded.

“I suspected,” Steve said, hoarsely.

“You have any seers in your family?” Napi asked.

“No,” Steve said. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes for a moment and then looked up, blinking away any trace of tears. “Not that I know of.”

Napi looked at him with sympathy. “You do now.”

“Great, nobody tell my grandmother. She would love to have that kind of feather in her cap,” Steve groused. He rubbed his eyes again and sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not just that.”

“No,” Napi said. “I don’t think so either.”

“What then?” Diana asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, looking at Napi. “I’m new to this.”

Napi smiled. “I am very much not.”

“What then?” Diana asked, impatient.

Napi sighed. “No one knows what happens to souls when Dementors take them. If they are destroyed or...something else.”

Steve sat forward, looking intent. “And Dementors aren’t usually destroyed themselves.”

“No,” Napi said. “We can only guess what happens to the souls of their victims when a Dementor perishes.”

There was a beat of horrified silence. Then Steve slumped back in his seat and ran his hands through his hair.

“Great, I’m being haunted too. Seeing the future or...whatever wasn’t bad enough,” Steve said. He laughed a little, humourlessly. “I thought Charlie was the one who saw that kind of ghosts.”

“Charlie only ever saw his own ghosts,” Napi said. “And the ones who choose it.”

“I’m not _seeing_ anything,” Steve said. “Not like that. Those dreams...I don’t see _people_. Just. It’s not like that.”

“That does not mean that they aren’t there,” Napi said, grimly.

“I hope you’re wrong,” Steve said flatly. “If what you’re saying is true, then...”

He trailed off, looking pale and sick, as if he could not bring himself to say what they all feared, the suffering and despair these...ghosts were condemned to, if Napi was right.

Diana took Steve’s hand and steeled herself for the answer before she asked the question. “What is it that you dream?”

Steve looked at her, blinked and then his mouth set in a determined line.

“Sometimes the...future. Like he said,” Steve allowed. “Not mine. I don’t think. But other people’s. I haven’t known any of them yet. It’s actually frustrating and quite…mundane, most of the time.”

Diana kept a tight hold of his hand. “And when it is not that?”

Steve kept his eyes on her. Diana got the sense that they wanted to stray but Steve would not let them.

“Terror,” he said at last, hoarsely. “Terror and horror and suffering.”

His jaw clamped shut for a moment. Diana could tell her was forcing himself to keep going. “And then...and then _nothing_. Just darkness.”

—

Napi disappeared for five days after that. He came back looking as grey and tired as Steve, who had hardly slept since he had been gone.

He came back with a Dreamcatcher.

Steve tried to refuse it.

“That's not your magic,” he said firmly, as if his eyes were not sunken and bruised and his hands didn’t shake. As if he had managed even an hour’s rest without screaming himself awake. “I know that now. I know what it cost you.”

“It is not magic at all.” Napi shrugged but there was a hint of annoyance in his eyes. “And the cost has already paid.”

Steve huffed. “Then I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to do that for me.”

“It’s not going to get any better without it,” Napi said, a little more gently.

Steve didn’t refuse again.

—

“Steve! Steve, settle a bet, huh?” Sameer’s voice crashed into Diana’s thoughts. “Give us the unbiased perspective. Do you prefer this—” he gestured rather uncharitably around them “—to Paris?”

“Or Hogsmeade!” Charlie put in crossly.

“Ah, no, England does not get _two_ —” Sameer protested.

“Hogsmeade is in _Scotland_ not England,” Charlie said, his voice rising.

Steve laughed. It made them all pause and stand a little taller as if weight was being removed from their shoulders ounce by ounce. It was becoming a less rare sound than it had been since the Battle at the Airfield — since, Diana had been told, well before that, Steve hadn’t smiled of laughed much, ever since they had known him — but it was still rare enough.

“Well, London is home,” Steve said and he smiled. “But I’ve only been the Paris during the war, which probably shouldn’t count, and I’ve never been to Hogsmeade. I can hardly judge.”

Charlie was shaking his head. “It’s a crime you’ve naught been to Scotland. They’d let you visit Hogwarts in the summer, I think. I know the groundskeeper.”

“I know the Headmaster,” Etta put in archly.

Steve grinned and walking a couple paces ahead with them. Etta took his arm. Sameer had launched into another soliloquy for Beauxbatons.

“He’s doing better,” Napi remarked.

“Yes,” Diana said. “The worst of the dreams are less frequent.”

Napi nodded. He had maintained a guard in their room for days even after he brought them the Dreamcatcher. Steve hadn’t dreamed at all then.

He had started to again, now that Napi no longer stayed the night with them. But it wasn’t the same as before. They were prophetic dreams, yes, but those did not harm him.

None of the others had slipped through.

“Asibikaashi’s webs are for protection and healing,” Napi said. He inclined his head to Steve, Etta and Charlie, walking in front of them. “ _Their_ people tied them wholly to dreams. That is not what I brought you.”

“Not magic,” Diana said, with a slight smile. “Tools of the gods.”

“Your brothers and sisters are gone. That does not mean you walk the Earth alone,” Napi inclined his head and smiled himself. “Maybe one day I’ll even get to introduce you to the Old Woman.”

Diana raised an eyebrow at him. Napi grinned and tapped the side of his nose.

“And this is Ollivander’s!” Etta announced, drawing their attention. The shop looked...surprisingly shabby for the way Etta and Charlie had spoken of it. Sameer looked more suspicious than impressed.

“It’s different,” Steve said. He mostly sounded relieved. Diana wondered what he had expected, given his upbringing. He had not spoken any further about his life before he left the United States.  

Diana took his hand, pleased to see him smiling still.

They went inside. It was riotous with dusty boxes but no one appeared to be there.

Steve took a step towards the counter. “Hello?”

“Welcome to Ollivander’s,” a quiet voice said as a man, middle-aged but somehow already old and with eyes that were too intent, appeared through the doorway in the back. “Come for a replacement, have you?”  

“Yes,” Steve said. “Mine was destroyed.”

“Hmmm,” Ollivander said. “American, are you?”

“Yes,” Steve answered.

“Come to fight in that Muggle war, have you?”

“Something like that,” Steve answered, his smile dimming around the edges.

The man did not appear particularly interested. He was already pulling boxes from the shelves. “Your last wand. It was...?”

“Er. Dragonstring and poplar,” Steve said.

“Eh? From America?” Ollivander stopped in his tracks and peered at him, frowning. “Which wandmaker was that?”

Steve cleared his throat. The tips of his ears were going pink. “My family, ah, imported. From a French wandmaker.”

Sameer hooted and clapped his hands. Charlie and Etta looked sour.

Ollivander looked like he thorough disagreed with the practice. “Wands are less effective if their choice is not taken into account. Importing, really. Come, come. Try this one.”

“He brought half of his inventory with him,” Steve muttered to Diana under his breath before he stepped forward to give it an actual whirl.

It took the better part of an hour. Ollivander’s excitement seemed to grow with each failed attempt and soon he was dashing about the store, chortling to himself about, finally, having someone who was a _challenge_.   

Somewhat surprisingly, Steve wasn’t lagging but seemed to be enjoying himself as well, looking in amusement at the ever increasing pile of discarded boxes.

Finally, Ollivander emerged with dust in his hair. “Here! They’ve fallen out of fashion recently — that idiot Cephalopos, served him right, going bankrupt — and we moved the stock to the back. It’s nothing like your old wand. Silver Lime with a Phoenix core, eleven inches. Elegant and...”

Steve took the wand. They all felt the change in the room.

Steve swallowed. He looked shaken but also as if something final had clicked into place. He looked at Ollivander and said: “Yes, this is it.”

Diana thought Ollivander looked slightly unnerved. His smile was, in turn, unnervingly pleased. They paid and left. Diana was glad to step back outside.

“Well, that was exciting!” Etta said. “I remember when I got my first wand, at Ollivander’s, of course, but I think it was his father then. Dragon heartstring and ash. It took twenty minutes for him to find it. Goodness me, it felt like an eternity at the time.”

“Unicorn and elm for me and it only took a moment,” Charlie said proudly.

“Laaaa-dee, that’s fancy of you,” Etta drawled.

Charlie shot a shower of harmless sparks at her in retaliation. Etta scrambled away, laughing.

“Wizards,” Napi said under his breath but he was smiling.

“Hey,” Steve said, at Diana’s elbow.

He was smiling again. He looked as if something inside him had settled and, if only for a moment, there were no shadows in his eyes. Instead, they were happy and a hint mischievous.

“Come on,” Steve said. “Fortescue’s is just down the road. You haven’t tried wizard ice cream yet.”

“Ah, no. It’s too cold for ice cream,” Sameer interjected. “Let’s go for butterbeer.”

“Diana likes ice cream,” Steve said.

“Diana hasn’t tried butterbeer,” Sameer replied.

Steve was unmoved. He shrugged instead. “We have time for both.”

Diana took his hand. As Sameer had said, it was still the depth of Winter. But it felt as if the sun had just come out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've basically taken what I wanted from the HP verse about North American magic and jettisoned the rest, particularly when it came to North American Indigenous cultures. 
> 
> If it's not 100% clear here, Napi is a Blackfoot demi-god. When I he references the Old Woman, I'm talking about his wife, Kipitaakii. 
> 
> And if Napi is the WW universe, I don't see any reason Asibikaashi couldn't be too. Asibikaashi is an Ojibwe god. 
> 
> I included Asibikaashi in the story, and went with the Ojibwe version of a Dreamcatcher because I'm a settler living within The Dish With One Spoon treaty territory and happen to know very slightly more about Ojibwe culture. But I really don't know very much at all and this is after having taken Masters level history classes on Indigenous history in North America. 
> 
> And I could literally talk about this AU universe FOR HOURS so come hit me up on [tumblr](http://dreamer-wisher-liar.tumblr.com/) or leave a comment if you want to!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that no one gets sorted! I can give me guesses in the note at the end of the next chapter is anyone wants them?!


End file.
